


Sweet Comfort

by Shay_Moonsilk



Series: Sweet Series [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Family is Here For Him, Cock Warming, Concussions, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), F/M, Gen, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Incel Behavior from an OC, M/M, NO rape, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), sex shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21633691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shay_Moonsilk/pseuds/Shay_Moonsilk
Summary: Aziraphale has finally started work as a lawyer at his fiance's firm, and is eager to prove that he is a capable attorney. But why is he getting such odd looks from his newest client? Surely, this man doesn't know about his experience as a cam boy, does he?It turns out that what goes on the Internet really does live forever. When Aziraphale's past sneaks up on him, will the firm be able to defend their own? Or have they found the one case they can't win?Part of the SugarDaddy!Crowley 'Sweet Temptation' Series
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale & Ligur (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Hastur/Ligur (Good Omens), Lilith/Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens)
Series: Sweet Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541242
Comments: 241
Kudos: 642
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Do I know you?

**Author's Note:**

> Goooood morning and happy beginning of holiday season! I am so nervous to bring this story to you! But in true me fashion, I couldn't focus on anything that wasn't this story, so if I had to think about this story I needed to write it down so it couldn't take over by brain anymore. 
> 
> I wanted to give a warning that there is some not-okay language that demeans Aziraphale for his prior work as a cam boy. Please let me know if my language upsets or triggers you, I do not want anything to be negatively affected by a story I write when the aim is to provide stress relief.

Growing up, Aziraphale had a very hard time making friends. He was too picky, too much of a know-it-all, too much of a _nerd_ . Going out to parties or changing his personality to ‘fit in’ had never been up to his standards. But that never particularly bothered him, because he had his books, and his studies. Then he’d had Gabriel (though the less said, the better!), his work after Gabriel, then _Crowley_ , and now this new life. 

“Is it cheesy to say I enjoy going to work?” Aziraphale asked, taking his eyes away from the window to look at Crowley. The two were currently riding in Crowley’s Bentley, heading towards _their_ office. Crowley was a lead partner at their firm, Aziraphale was a new junior partner. He had been hired just a few short months ago, and the novelty of getting to work with his fiance and his closest friends still had not worn away. 

From the front of the car, Hastur, who sometimes drove for Crowley (and by extension Aziraphale), and sometimes did in-house accounting for the firm, in addition to a dozen other odd jobs, glanced up to the rear-view mirror. Only he could manage to look both fond _and_ exasperated. 

“ _Yes_ , and you _are_ a nerd,” He said, and Aziraphale snickered. 

Aziraphale had known Hastur for nearly six years, and they had developed a particular brand of good-natured teasing. Hastur hadn’t liked Aziraphale when they first met, but now, years later, Aziraphale would be hard-pressed to find a better defender. Potentially Ligur would beat him out, but they did most things together anyways. 

Crowley, Aziraphale’s fiance, was used to this kind of back and forth between them by now, and rolled his eyes. He gave Aziraphale a fond look, and said, “Personally, I think I enjoy going to work because you’re there with me.” 

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered, blushing. 

Hastur made an exaggerated gagging noise, but Aziraphale ignored him, instead leaning in to kiss his fiance. 

\----

Aziraphale had good reason to be excited to go into work that day. Beelzebub, one of his two supervisors, was looking into taking on a new case with a potential client. But due to their own increasing work schedule, they were interested in delegating their work and giving Aziraphale more responsibilities. He really wanted to impress them, and read up on this case and had several potential plans for the defense. 

He and Beelzebub sat with their new client for the consultation. He introduced himself as Jack Rod, and Aziraphale prided himself on being a consummate professional and not laughing at the _ridiculous_ name.

"Jack Rod," He gave them both a smirk, shaking Beelzebub's hand. Beelzebub quickly excused themself to get a file from Anathema (and, Aziraphale suspected, have a quick laugh about the name out of eyesight from their client). When he went to shake Aziraphale's hand, he paused a moment, looking at him closely. 

"I feel like I've seen you before, somewhere," He said, peering at Aziraphale closely. 

Aziraphale felt a chill go through him. He forced a casual laugh. “Oh, I get that a lot, I just have a familiar face.” 

Thankfully, Beelzebub came back into the room, and encouraged Aziraphale to begin the presentation.

It wasn’t the first time he had ever been recognized. After he had been kicked out of Gabriel’s apartment, and forced to create a life of his own with no savings, Aziraphale had taken up Cam Work that a kind neighbor had helped him get started on. He had built up an impressive number of followers, and had been able to scramble enough money to live in his own terribly small studio apartment. 

He had taken refuge in the fact that it was a _solo_ job. That there wasn’t an interaction with his viewers except for a live comment thread, and even then he could always mute people or delete threads entirely. The double edged sword, of course, was that he never knew _who_ was watching. Aziraphale had found out, upon running into his ex and his ex’s colleagues, that they had _all_ been aware of his channel, and that they had actually _seen_ it. Had Aziraphale not deleted his videos, he suspected they would have tried to blackmail him. The thought made him ill. Yet also Crowley used to watch his videos, and had always been so _lovely_ and _complementary_ . Aziraphale never felt dirty making them when he knew his boyfriend at the time would watch. Rather, it felt like a special _treat,_ and inside secret he could share with his lover. 

On very rare occasions, when he and Crowley went out, some people would give him a confused glance. It was as if they were trying to place him somewhere, but just couldn’t figure out _where_ . Aziraphale could count on one hand the number of times he had actually been _fully_ recognized, thankfully. He would be given a quizzical _I know you from somewhere_ look, that he would promptly ignore. If anyone felt bold enough to approach him, he would feign confusion and denial. Luckily, that was enough to deter anyone from trying to question him any further. 

But surely, _surely_ , this couldn’t be that? 

Yet Jack seemed to give him such suggestive looks, and when Aziraphale started to explain the services their firm would provide, Jack actually _winked_ when he said _‘services’_. A pit was forming in Aziraphale’s stomach, and he felt an unpleasant warmth spread throughout his neck, arms, and torso. 

Hopefully, as long as he and Beelzebub were in the same room together at all times, _nothing_ was going to happen. And later on, if this man was to become his client, he would just have to make sure Anathema or Ligur would be near to help him at every meeting. That wouldn't be such a hardship, they liked working with him on other cases that they put together. And most likely, Aziraphale was overreacting anyway. 

  
There was a knock on the door, and Beelzebub told them to come in. Anathema opened the door. “Beelzebub, you’re needed with a client,” She said to them.

Because of the confidential nature of their work, there were certain phrases they had co-opted to mean things - this was Aziraphale’s idea, as a way to make sure important information could be communicated. He got the idea from _The West Wing_ , when Crowley finally showed it to him - he really enjoyed the episodes where characters had a phrase to mean something else. 

If Anathema had said, _‘a consultant needs you’_ , that would have meant, ‘ _Someone is interested in hiring us’._ Lucifer handed most of those. There was also, _‘There’s a question about court appearances,’_ which would have meant _‘We have a client panicking about their case_ ’ - this was usually given to Crowley or Aziraphale to work through. Though sometimes, ‘ _You’re needed with a client’_ was relayed. _‘You’re needed with a client’_ was code, and usually meant something along the lines of, _‘Emergency. 9-1-1. Drop everything. Come now.’_

So Beelzebub gathered their things, and turned to Jack and Aziraphale. 

“I’m sorry to cut this short,” They said, “But I think Aziraphale can finish the meeting with you.” 

Beelzebub was a stickler on professional development - this was a _big deal_. Aziraphale knew about friends from school that had supervisor’s down their throats every moment of the work day - or even on nights and weekends. Being trusted to finish out a meeting like this on his own was a big deal. 

But the thought of it made his insides _squirm_ , because this man was setting off an alarm for him. But surely, _surely_ , he was overthinking this? He had to be reading too much into this. And this was one of his first couple of clients with Beelzebub, he only got one chance at a first impression. He had mostly worked with Lucifer in the last few months at finding clients. Lucifer was an intimidating boss, and had terrified him until he found out and then made Aziraphale have dinner with his wife. He was an unconventional boss, and liked to have meetings at clubs, or parties, and preferably with his wife to help put potential clients at ease. Lilith was charming, and usually helped close his meetings. But Beelzebub was different then Lucifer, and Aziraphale needed to be more formal with them. 

“Of course,” He smiled, and they gave him a nod of thanks. The door opened again, and it was Crowley. 

Beelzebub passed him as they made their way through, and Aziraphale asked to take one moment to speak to his fiance. 

Were Jack’s eyes following his backside? Or was he just being paranoid? 

“Hello dear,” He said, in a low voice. Crowley was grinning at him. 

“I’ve got an appearance,” Crowley said, as if Aziraphale didn’t already know. Aziraphale smiled at him. 

“We’ll get dinner later,” Aziraphale offered, “I’ll text some suggestions.”

“Thanks angel,” Crowley gave him a quick peck, and left. Aziraphale let himself take a moment to enjoy the moment. Then, he focused himself and went back to the meeting. Hopefully, getting the peck from Crowley would help show that he was engaged. He had made a point of drumming his fingers on the table, to show of the ring, but it couldn't hurt. 

Jack didn’t say anything as they resumed, but his eyes _lingered_ . Aziraphale was sure he was just being paranoid. He went back to the packet in front of the client, and went through it with him. For an hour they did this, and Aziraphale did his best to keep his voice level. He was being paranoid. Jack's eyes were not _boring_ into him. He wasn't _leering_. This was in Aziraphale's head.

"That is a basic run through of our services," Aziraphale concluded, giving him a smile. "Do you have any questions?"

"Do _you_ promise to be my lawyer?" Jack asked, his voice pitched lower. It _almost_ sounded seductive, but that was ludicrous. Aziraphale gave a nervous laugh. 

"Oh, that will most likely be Beelzebub," He deflected, "But I will be helping them, certainly."

"So you'll be _helping_ me?" Jack grinned. 

He _had_ to be reading into this.

"I'll do my best," Aziraphale promised carefully, trying to choose his words with nuance. 

Jack was eyeing him. "I still feel like I _know_ you from somewhere," he said. 

Aziraphale felt his blood run cold. 

"Oh," he said, trying to keep his voice light. "I get that all the time."

Jack was shaking his head. "No, no, I feel like I've _seen_ you before."

Aziraphale swallowed. "I have a very generic face, I'm sure that's what you are thinking."

He shook his head, and then his eyes lit up to Aziraphale's horror. 

“I remember you,” He purred, and it was _definitely_ going to seduction, Aziraphale knew that _definitively_ now. He backed up, trying to put as much difference between himself and the client as he could. 

" _Angel,"_ Jack grinned, "That's it, that's what you are."

_No, not to you,_ Aziraphale wanted to scream. He could feel his heart pounding. This wasn’t safe. He had to do something. 

But this was one of his first major clients - he couldn’t lose this for the firm! They had hired him so he could help them with their caseload. What was this going to look like to them? 

He tried to back up more, and Jack noticed. 

“Playing hard to get?” the man laughed, “You’re not so _coy_ on your channel.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aziraphale whispered, trying desperately to sound convincing. 

The man laughed. “Of course you do. I can’t _believe_ I didn’t recognize you sooner - I used to watch every video - I bet you moan just as well in private.”

Aziraphale stammered, “That’s inappropriate!” 

"Inappropriate?!" Jack snarled, suddenly looking furious. "I gave you a _compliment,_ just smile and say _thank you._ You're the one that put out those slutty videos and I _paid_ for them."

"Please, I don't do that anymore," Aziraphale said, his heart pounding in fear. "Surely we can reach a common ground?"

"You upset me when you deleted your channel," Jack glared, "I was someone who paid for a service. Maybe now I should _take_ that service."

Aziraphale could barely whisper, "No please," when Jack _lunged_ at him. 

They collapsed to the ground, and Aziraphale hit his head _hard_ as his back collided to the ground. For a moment, his vision got black spots and he lost his focus. Jack seized his luck, and pinned his wrists forcibly next to his pulsating head. The pressure on his left wrist made Aziraphale _scream_ \- the agony of the pain brought back that horrible mugging years ago, and he sobbed at both the reminder of that day combined with what was happening to him now. 

He cried out, begging for him to _stop_ , and tried to fight back. But there was a _ringing_ in his ear, and his vision blurred. The fall must have knocked his glasses he couldn’t see - but that thought didn’t come to his head for several moments. 

Aziraphale struggled and yelled - at least, he tried to. Jack covered his mouth, and leaned down to _bite_ at his neck. Aziraphale _sobbed_ , hating the way he could _feel_ this _monster_. 

Suddenly, Jack was being _yanked_ off of him, and hauled away. Aziraphale gasped, struggling to regain his breath. He couldn’t _breathe_ . Everything was too _noisy_ , and he couldn’t _breathe-_

Someone was hauling him up to a sitting position, and he _gagged_ at being moved. The nausea was unbearable. His head was pulsing and his whole body was boiled down to the pain in his head. Before he could realize what was happening, he was throwing up. He couldn’t see - his glasses were missing - but he seemed to be throwing up into something, because it wasn’t on him. Aziraphale had no idea how long he was retching, only that his whole body was shuddering and shivering and refusing to cooperate with him.

Vaguely, he had the impression someone was trying to talk to him, trying to ask him questions, but he couldn’t answer them.

Nothing was making any sense.

And he couldn't stop _shaking_. 


	2. Where do we go?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath, and a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooooo boy! I am so sorry for that cliffhanger! I don't know why I do this. I hope this chapter is enjoyable!!!!

Ligur had Jack restrained, his hands behind his back. In the lobby, Newt had already called the police, and reported that they, with an ambulance, were headed his way. 

Jack was sneering, trying to jeer that he was only taking his due. “The other lawyer gets to have Angel, but I can’t?” He snarled, “He put that channel out, and gets mad when I give him a compliment? I thought I could expect him to be welcoming, and not a prudish  _ woman  _ about the whole thing.”

Every fiber of Ligur’s being demanded that he punch Jack until he couldn’t speak that way about Aziraphale. Not  _ his  _ Aziraphale. “Stop talking,” Ligur demanded. He  _ couldn’t  _ punch him. He  _ couldn’t _ . He would be arrested. He, Ligur, would have to go on the defense. He’d be sued. It wouldn’t matter that this asshole would deserve it. It also wouldn’t matter that he was a well-respected paralegal. That would not be the edit he would receive from the public. 

“Is he only for the office then?” Jack wasn’t listening to him, “Do you pass him around to each other? Just for you fuckers?” 

Breathe in. 

Breathe out. 

Aziraphale wouldn’t want him to get arrested. Ligur needed to keep his cool for the kid. His kid. 

Aziraphale had been  _ crying _ , and that was going to worm its way into his brain for a long time. Hastur had told him, six years ago, what it had been like to see him in the hospital bed, and Ligur hadn’t gotten it then. He got it now. 

Fuck. 

_ Hastur _ . 

_ Crowley _ . 

“Get them on the phone,” He barked to Newt, who doesn’t need any clarification as to whom he meant. 

“We won’t be able to reach them,” Newt said, looking stricken, “They’re in court.” 

Ligur swore. Newt was right. There was no way he was going to be able to get ahold of them for a couple hours at least. “Who’s with him?” He asked. 

“Dagon,” Newt says, and Ligur knew he was sounding like an asshole to the office assistant, and none of this was Newt’s fault. He did what he was supposed to do. He'd called the ambulance and made sure to get support for everyone. 

He forced himself to take another breath. And another. 

“They said they would be here,” Newt repeated, and he began to make a litany of commentary. Ligur was grateful. It was the chance to focus on something that wasn’t the scumbag he was restraining. Or the fact that when he blinked, he could see Aziraphale shaking and crying in fear and pain. The police didn't arrive soon enough. 

For his part, Newt kept up a commentary of his conversation with dispatch, and anything that kept Ligur focused on him. He did this for the ten minutes that it took for help to arrive. Policemen were quick to take Jack into custody, thankfully, and commend Ligur for expertly detaining him. For his part, Ligur gave curt, short answers as he was asked about what happened. Another officer followed Newt,  _ finally _ , to check on Aziraphale. 

Ligur breathed again, and forced himself to recount everything he had seen in better detail. He talked about hearing the shout, the sound of someone hitting the floor, and the crying. The crying. Seeing Aziraphale struggle against the other man, who was pinning him. He tried to keep his voice level, to keep any and all emotion out of it. But it was a struggle. Thankfully, the officer was patient. She reassured him to keep going when his voice faltered. She promised that help was coming for Aziraphale. 

The officer that had followed Newt came back. “It’s definitely a concussion.” He said to her, “I’m getting an ETA on that ambulance.”

Fuck. 

“Let me sit with him,” Ligur pleaded. She sighed. “I’ll come down to the station later if you still need me,” Ligur wasn’t begging. He didn't beg. She finally gave a nod. 

“It’s alright, I have what I need. I’ll need to take his statement later,” She says, but before Ligur could even  _ think _ of how to handle that, Newt was handing her one of Aziraphale’s business cards. “Call the main number,” He said, “Set it up with me, I’ll schedule it.”

They really don’t appreciate Newt enough. 

Ligur was already making his way back to the office. Dagon was there, just as Newt said, trying to calm Aziraphale down. His head was bowed over the trash can, and he was  _ shaking _ . She was carefully not touching him, and looking distraught. 

“I can’t reach them,” She hissed at him, “Crowley,  _ or _ Hastur.”

“They’re in session,” He said, and she swore, much like he did when he realized that. 

“Aziraphale?” Ligur said, carefully, kneeling down, “‘Zira?”

There was no response. No ‘ _ that’s not my name _ ’ that Aziraphale  _ always _ said when he and Hastur used the nickname. Just shaking, and sobbing.

“It’s okay,” He soothed, reaching out to gently touch his back, before realizing that he probably shouldn’t. Aziraphale jumped at the contact, but Ligur was committed now. He shushed him, moving closer, and rubbed his back. Aziraphale slowly relaxed under his hand, which felt encouraging. “It’s okay,” He repeats, “Aziraphale, look at me, it’s okay.” 

He repeated this until he could make eye contact with the other man, and it tested all of his earlier military training when he was younger to  _ not _ blanche at the tear-stained face that looks back at him. 

“There we are,” Ligur said, forcing his voice to go casually light. “That’s much better.” 

It was  _ not _ . Aziraphale was still shaking, still trying to get his breathing under control, but he was focusing on Ligur. And by some miracle - probably Newt’s quick thinking - there was a box of tissues by him. Ligur slowly held a tissue up, and he dabbed at his face until Aziraphale quickly took it from him. Shaking, he dabbed at his eyes and blew his nose. 

The ambulance arrived, and a different professional tried to ask Aziraphale for his name, his date of birth, the president. But he couldn’t give coherent answers, and stammered to make a reply. They confirmed the earlier diagnosis of a concussion, and help supported his weight to get him to stand. Aziraphale lurched forward as he was brought to his feet, and Ligur rushed to help steady him.

“Wait,” Ligur said, “Let me go with him.”

“We’re not supposed to bring passengers,” The paramedic says, but Ligur is already grabbing Aziraphale’s briefcase, and his own bag. 

“I’m going with him,” Ligur repeated, and it’s obvious he  _ isn’t  _ asking. 

\-------

Hours later, Hastur gets out of the courtroom moments before before Crowley. Which is all the time he needs to receive the  _ hundreds _ of missed texts, calls, and updates about what’s happened. Ligur sent him message after message, detailing what had happened, and where he and Aziraphale are. Hastur could feel his blood run cold. 

_ Jack assaulted Aziraphale.  _

_ Has concussion.  _

_ Kid and I en route to the hospital.  _

_ Track location.  _

Fuck. Fuck. Shit. 

He’s reminded of when Aziraphale had been mugged, over five years ago. It’s coming back and he’s remembering how horrible the kid had looked in that bed, in that cast, and fuck it’s all happened again. How he had learned about it second hand from a phone call that Crowley had received from the hospital. And here he was, learning from his husband second-hand. Again.

Fuck. Crowley doesn’t even know yet.  _ Shit _ . 

He bursts back in, where Crowley is still talking, calm as you please, to their satisfied client. 

And Hastur can feel his heart breaking, because how is he supposed to tell Crowley? He walks forward, because Aziraphale needs them. Crowley doesn’t notice him right away, he’s focused on their client. On doing his job. Hastur needs to jar him, to pull him away from the work he is doing, and to focus on the here and now. 

“Anthony,” He says, and there it is. His repulsion to anyone that isn’t Aziraphale using his first name is evident on his face, and it does the job of pulling his attention onto Hastur. 

“We need to go,” Hastur says, trying to think of what he can say with a client near them. He leans in, and lowers his voice, “Our client, Zira, needs you.” 

Crowley’s face pales. “I’m sorry,” He says to their client, who gives a nod. “I’ll follow up later, call Newt for an appointment,” He says, and the woman nods. 

“What do you mean,  _ ‘Our client Zira’ _ ,” Crowley hisses, “What the fuck-”

“Turn on your phone,” Hastur’s a coward, he knew this. “I’ll start driving.” 

\------

Crowley never wanted to be here again. It brought back that incident, five years ago, when he saw his lover in a hospital bed with a broken wrist. After having been  _ mugged.  _

It’s not a broken wrist now. It’s a  _ concussion _ . With a terrible  _ lump _ that’s formed on the back of his head from when he hit the ground. Hastur, like last time, had broken nearly every driving rule to get them there as quickly as he could. He and Crowley tear through the floors, terrify undeserving nurses and staff, and finally manage to track Ligur down. 

That’s how they found Aziraphale in a hospital bed. Again. But this time he was awake. The room they were in had low lighting, to keep Aziraphale's pain level low. They slowly pushed the door open, and saw Ligur next to his bed. He was reading something on his phone, and as they got closer, they realized that it was  _ The Hobbit.  _ They were trying to pass the time before Aziraphale could get an ‘all clear’ to sleep. 

“Hey ‘Zira,” Hastur called over, taking a seat on his other side. There was a grunt that he got in response, and it made him grin. 

Crowley took Ligur’s spot next to his fiance, and glared at the paralegal. 

“What happened?” Crowley growled in a low voice. Rationally, he knew the paralegal didn't deserve his ire. But he wasn’t thinking rationally. “What the  _ fuck _ happened?” 

“Jack recognized Aziraphale, from his former job,” Ligur said. He was past the point of anger himself. It had run through him when he pulled the man off, when he detained him, when he waited for the police for an hour, and when he had to watch the paramedics load a panicking Aziraphale into an ambulance. Now he feels a bone-heavy exhaustion, and sympathy for his kid. 

“He… assumed that Aziraphale was…  _ offering his services _ ,” Ligur said, forcing back bile as he speaks. “And wanted to… take him up on the offer.”

That sank in for a moment, and Crowley felt his eyes go  _ red.  _ He wasn’t alone. 

“Alright, I’ll kill him,” Hastur said calmly, “I’ll kill him.”

“I heard the fight,” Ligur said, and he reached out to grab Hastur’s hand. “I pulled him off, and detained him. The police have him. We’re supposed to keep low tones here, and keep Aziraphale awake for the next few hours.”

In response, Aziraphale let out a pitiful groan, and it  _ almost  _ made Crowley smile. 

“You want to sleep love?” He asked, and Aziraphale made a humming noise. 

“Are we not using words anymore?” Hastur asked, looking worried. 

Ligur gave a shrug. “Speaking in full sentences makes his head hurt more. So we’re relying on verbal cues. And books, because I am not holding up an entire conversation. I’m not Lucifer.” 

“So what is going to happen with Jack?” Hastur asked. 

“He’ll be in custody for a while,” Ligur said, “Our security footage got everything.” 

“We’ll press charges,” Crowley growled, “Take that  _ fucker _ down-”

“We’ll wait,” Ligur said, in a tone that brokered no argument, “For Aziraphale to tell us what he wants, because what we do next is  _ his  _ choice.” 

He had  _ never _ seen Crowley so angry before. The attorney clenched his fists, nearly  _ frothing _ . But Ligur understood. There wasn’t anything that Crowley  _ could  _ do. Nothing he could buy, no one that he could threaten. It was a matter of waiting and sitting, and staying. At this point getting any kind of task would be preferable. But they were in a space where nothing  _ could  _ happen. 

“I think,” Hastur said, getting up, “That I’m going to go buy every balloon they have here. Brighten up this room.” 

In that moment, Ligur remembered why he loved his husband. Crowley didn’t acknowledge the statement, but Ligur could swear that something lightened on him. Hastur  _ looked  _ at him, until Ligur understood he was meant to go with. 

“I’ll help,” He said, pretending he was leaving of his own volition, and not because Hastur was the smarter one when it came to what Aziraphale needed. 

\------

Crowley monopolized the chair closest to Aziraphale’s bed, and was uncomfortably contorting as much of his body as possible to fit on the bed next to him. There were bruises  _ on his neck _ that had been left by Jack, and it turned his stomach sour to see. Briefly, he wished that Aziraphale would be able to sleep through the duration of the bruises, so he wouldn’t have to feel the reminder. 

He picked up where Ligur left off, but had to stop every few sentences to make sure Aziraphale was still awake. 

“How are you feeling?” Crowley asked softly. Aziraphale gave a little hum. He opened his eyes, focusing on Crowley in front of him. 

“I’ve… been better,” He said, choosing each word with focus. Crowley carded a hand through his curls. 

"It's alright," Crowley said, carefully keeping his voice low. "Don't try and speak, alright?" 

Cam work, Aziraphale had told him once, had been a safety net. A way to make sure no one knew where he was, and a way to make sure that he didn’t have to interact with anyone in person. This should  _ never _ have happened. 

How did it happen? How did the man know to associate-

Fuck. 

Shit. 

It was  _ his fault.  _ He had been the one to call him Angel. Like an idiot. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispered. His fingertips gently stroked Aziraphale’s forearm. “I’m so, so, so sorry,” He repeated. 

“Why are you sorry?” Ligur asked, holding the door open for his husband. Making good on Hastur’s earlier idea, the two carried an impressive number of balloons, and a couple stuffed animals. 

“This is my fault,” Crowley said, not taking his eyes off his fiance. 

“Doubtful,” Hastur deadpanned. 

“No, it really is,” He said, “I called him  _ angel _ . That helped him put the pieces together.” 

Hastur let out a scoff. “Crowley, don’t be stupid,” He said gently, “That asshole was going to figure it out no matter what you did. And he was going to do something no matter what anyone said. If it wasn't today, it would have been next time. Thankfully, Ligur was there, and Aziraphale's  _ here _ ."

“And that bastard is in custody,” Ligur reminded him, “Now we just see what comes next.” 

From his spot in front of Crowley, Aziraphale made an affirmative humming noise. 

———

After a few more hours, Aziraphale finally got an all-clear to sleep, which he took advantage of. He woke hours later to find the entire firm around his bed and in the room. The lighting was still low, which he was grateful for because his head still ached. Aziraphale could also feel aches and pains - particularly in his once-injured wrist and back. Slowly, he let out a deep breath escape his chest and exhaled through his mouth. 

“Hey, seems like he’s up,” He heard a voice say. 

Aziraphale opened his eyes to find the entire firm seated around his room. It had been Lucifer who noticed him wake up. There was some low conversation in the room that halted when he opened his eyes. 

“Hey,” It was Anathema, giving him a gentle smile. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like death,” Aziraphale answered, slumping against the pillows.

“How’s your head?” Crowley asked, gently carding a hand through his curls. 

Aziraphale let his eyes close, enjoying the sensation. “I haven’t had any complaints,” He said, letting a smile ghost across his face. 

Hastur laughed loudly, ignoring the  _ shushing  _ noises from the rest of their colleagues. 

“Aziraphale,” he opened his eyes to see Beelzebub in front of him. They looked overcome with guilt. “I am so, so sorry.” 

“Oh no,” He said, his face twisting in sympathy, “It’s not your fault! At all! He was always going to do something. If anything, it’s mine for trying to lie to him and having those videos in the first place.”

“We don’t need to blame ourselves,” Dagon snapped, glaring at them both, “None of us are at fault here. It’s that asshole who should be sorry. He’s the one that attacked you, he’s the one that should have to pay.” 

“Dagon is right,” Ligur said, “Aziraphale, if you’re feeling better, we should figure out what’s going to happen next.” 

There was an audible swallowing noise from Aziraphale. 

“We should sue him,” Hastur said, and there were some agreeing nods. “Can’t let him get away with this.” 

“Wait,” Aziraphale said, “Maybe let’s not be so hasty.” 

“ _Hasty_?” Ligur said, eyes flashing with anger, “We’re having this conversation in a _hospital_ _room_ , and you want us to not be _hasty_?” 

Aziraphale flushed, and looked down, embarrassed. Shame pooled in his stomach - what on earth was he thinking? 

“Shut up,” Dagon hissed at him, and Ligur pursed his lips. “Aziraphale, what happened was  _ serious _ . You were  _ attacked _ . You were  _ hurt _ . The hospital has kept you for nearly twenty-four hours. That’s not normal.” 

“I’m sorry,” Ligur whispered, scooting a chair closer to Aziraphale’s legs. “I’m sorry that I snapped. I pulled that  _ monster  _ off of you, and you didn’t see yourself in that moment. I sat with him until he got arrested, and hearing  _ half _ the shit he said made me see  _ red _ . He’s dangerous, and he shouldn’t be allowed to get off.” 

“But if we sue,” Aziraphale said, looking him in the eye, “That’s going to mean bad publicity for this firm. It undoes all the work you have all done since it started. It tarnishes the reputation to have a _ ‘former cam worker get allegedly assaulted’ _ ,” His voice broke at the phrase ‘allegedly assaulted’, but he didn’t stop talking, “Assaulted, from a potential  _ client _ , and then  _ sue _ that very same client. It brings my  _ reputation  _ out and drags you all down with me.”

There was a long pause. No one quite knew where to begin to answer him. 

Finally, Crowley spoke up. “If we can’t handle your case,” He said slowly, and squeezed Aziraphale’s hand, “If we can’t defend one of our own, then we don’t deserve to work at this firm.” 

“Yeah,” Lucifer said, nodding, “I got into this to make sure people stayed safe against a shitty system. It would be nice to see if maybe the shitty system could  _ work  _ for once.” 

“You would also get protected,” Anathema reminded him, “We could make sure the judge keeps everything low key.” 

Aziraphale still looked unsure. “I just… I don’t know.”

Newt made a noise, and it caused everyone to look at him. 

“What do you think?” Aziraphale asked. Newt looked alarmed at being spoken to directly. 

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” He said, but Anathema repeated Aziraphale’s words. 

“Well,” He said, trying to choose his words carefully, “It’s just unfortunate that victims still don’t report their abusers. It… it would be nice if everyone had the resources we knew about. Because we know how to protect people because we understand the laws. But that’s not the case for everyone.” 

When he realized everyone was still staring at him, Newt ducked his head, embarrassed. 

“Newt, that was incredible,” Anathema said, giving him a wide smile. Aziraphale watched him flush at the compliment she gave, and made a mental note to think about that a little more later. 

“You’re right,” Aziraphale said, and people turned to look back at him. “Newton, you are right. People don’t know about protections. And abusers don’t get reported. I’m not special. No,” He turned to Crowley, who wasn’t the only one objecting, “I’m  _ not _ special. This happens too much and goes unreported for far too long.” 

He took a deep breath, and steadied himself to look Crowley in the eye, “Let’s kick some serious butt.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think :)


	3. Won't you be my lawyer?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does a firm defend their own?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to bring you this chapter and introduce a special character :) @AmyPound has been my law-consultant for this story and really helped put this story together. Thank you Amy!

Just as Newt said, Aziraphale was able to keep his name out of the media. Their judge, a no-nonsense man named Shadwell, wanted to have a straightforward case that would  _ not _ become some sort of circus. Aziraphale had the distinct impression that the Judge did not like him, with his flashy suits and tartan accents, but he didn’t care. He could appreciate the approach the man had to the law, and his unwillingness to budge on the case. 

Jack Rod was being represented by a public defense attorney - he seemed to not be able to find someone that would be willing to take his case. Aziraphale noticed there was a sort of  _ vicious _ glee from Lucifer when he reported this, but he tried not to think too much into it. As for Aziraphale, there was really only one person that he wanted to help him. 

“Are you sure angel?” Crowley asked. They were laying together in bed, Aziraphale having been released from the hospital days prior. Aziraphale was laying on his chest, and smiled up at him. 

“Absolutely,” Aziraphale affirmed. “I don’t need a prosecutor from the city as long as we keep this private, and there is no one else I would rather have protect me then you.” 

Words failed him in that moment, so instead Crowley showed his appreciation by loving Aziraphale so  _ passionately _ that neither of them could much move the next morning. 

So Crowley represented him, and they met in closed sessions with Jack and his attorney. Aziraphale didn’t speak in these moments, relying on his fiance to handle their case. The public attorney was going for a plea deal to try and lessen jail time, because with the video evidence from their office there was no realistic way they could try and claim ‘not guilty’. 

The evidence was overwhelming. 

Firstly, there was the footage from the conference room where the attack had taken place that was coupled with audio. It very clearly showed Aziraphale telling Jack to stop, and Jack not listening and attacking. The screams were undeniable - it was clear Aziraphale was completely unwilling. If that weren’t enough, one only needed to watch Aziraphale’s reaction to having to replay the footage - his whole face contorted in agony to have to see it again. 

Additionally, they found Jack’s search history, which included participation in several incel-labeled chatrooms. He had posted long rants about how, despite being a nice, well-off guy, women and men continued to demean him and dislike him. How he would take people on nice dates and promise to be a good husband, and yet he would continue to be denied sex. 

There were manifestos and rules proposed on these chat boards that he had signed with his full name. He had even become a moderator just a week before his visit to their firm. The proof of the attack, combined with the establishment of his character, meant that there was no way this could be anything less than a guilty plea. 

Jack, for his part, tried to keep silent in these sessions, but was volatile and angry about the charges labeled on him. After Crowley would present their side, he would speak, unprompted, and sometimes start shouting that if Aziraphale hadn’t wanted attention, then he shouldn’t have posted the videos that he did. Judge Shadwell would have  _ none _ of this behavior in his courtroom, and more then once had him escorted by a guard in contempt. It was only because of the egregious behavior that they hadn’t been able to reach a plea deal and end this. 

Crowley was trying to prevent  _ any _ lessening of jail time, using such outbursts as evidence that anything less than the maximum sentence would mean a lack of any lessons learned. In these sessions, Aziraphale only answered questions that he absolutely had to, but in private - in their home - he pleaded with Crowley to compromise a little. 

“We can end this,” Aziraphale begged, “And put it behind us!” 

“We can’t,” Crowley argued, wrapping his arms around his fiance. “He has to learn, and if we compromise that means he will see that he was right. And he wasn’t right to hurt you.” 

Aziraphale couldn’t reply to that. Because he knew that his love was right. But seeing him in those sessions was Hell. And he hated every moment of it. For a week they did this, heading into sessions where they ironed out the terms for the plea deal - Crowley pushing for the hardest sentence that he could, Jack flying into a rage, Aziraphale biting down a panic attack, before they ended for the day. At night, they could cuddle tightly in bed, and sometimes make love in an attempt to distract from what was going on. 

Until one day, they entered the private chambers to see Jack there, without his defender. 

“Where is your attorney?” Crowley asked, narrowing his eyes. 

Jack gave them both a grin. Aziraphale cringed at how relaxed he looked. It was such a far cry from the angry man that they had been dealing with 

“Relax,” Jack said, his voice sending chills down Aziraphale’s spine. “He’s not here yet.”

Shadwell narrowed his eyes. “I hope that he’s ready to reach a conclusion soon.” 

In that moment, the door opened, and a voice echoed in the room. A voice that Aziraphale had always dreaded hearing, one that he never wanted to hear again. 

“Actually, I believe there should be certain… changes in how this case is running.”

“Sandalphon?!” Crowley spluttered, rounding on Jack, “You went and hired Sandalphon?”

“Oh heavens no,” Sandalphon chuckled, taking a seat next to his new client. Both Aziraphale and Crowley fought the urge to scoot their chairs against the wall. “I actually found Jack and decided to take his case pro-bono. We’re trying to help the less fortunate, after all. Surely  _ you _ ,” and here he gave a pointed look at Crowley, “Can understand helping the _ less fortunate _ ?”

The dig at Aziraphale did not go unnoticed by either of them. 

By some miracle, Crowley was able to resist the urge to punch him. “You do know,” He said, narrowing his eyes, “That that man is being accused of assault? Of both a sexual and physical nature? That because of him, my client has spent time in the hospital for a concussion?”

Sandalphon made a little tutting noise, as if Crowley had spoken of eating something distasteful at lunch. “Oh, Crowley,” He said, sneering, “That is merely one side of the story. This whole procedure has really been a one-sided affair, and we haven’t even stopped to consider how this has been affecting my client.”

“Affecting your client?” Crowley snapped, “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Sandalphon replied. “And with this attitude, it’s no wonder these talks have gone nowhere.”

Ignoring the angry look on Crowley’s face, Sandalphon turned to the Judge. 

“We are withdrawing the guilty plea. We are going to plead not guilty, and take this to an official trial.” He turned a not-so-gentle grin to Crowley. “A real prosecutor will take it from here, no need for your help anymore.” 

He stood, and gestured for Jack to also stand. “We’ll see you in court, Aziraphale,” Sandalphon said, “And I do hope you have a  _ fair _ lawyer.” 

\-------

“That asshole,” Crowley seethed, “I can’t believe he’s doing this.” 

The two of them were at AJ's home, because he had asked them to meet him for dinner. AJ had a bottle of wine ready to offer them, but he had taken one look at their faces and placed it back in favor of some whiskey. Crowley wasted no time in knocking. back a double shot. Aziraphale refused the alcohol. 

"He's taking this case pro bono," Crowley said, "Which you  _ know _ is just him trying to stick it to  _ you _ snubbing him,” this he said to his father, “and then not inviting them to your last couple events." 

AJ had thrown several parties after the initial one where he met Aziraphale. However, he had stopped inviting  _ Archangel & Heaven  _ after the scene they caused. In the meantime, he watched as Crowley took savage bites of his food in between angry rants of Sandalphon. Meanwhile, Aziraphale picked at his food, not taking any bites. 

"Aziraphale," he said, interrupting Crowley's rant, "how are you doing?" 

That took the wind out of Crowley, who looked at his fiance. Aziraphale was silent, looking alarmed at being addressed.

"Angel?" Crowley asked, sounding almost contrite.

"I…" Aziraphale said slowly, "I just wish this could have ended." His shoulders slumped. "This is going to go to trial, I’ll have to take the stand, and I'm not looking forward to what they are going to dig up on me." 

He looked at Crowley, frowning, "And this means I will need a prosecutor, so I can't even have you represent me anymore."

AJ swallowed. "About that," he said, and they both looked up at him. “Sandalphon had already filed with us, the case was given to my office today. That’s part of why I invited you over tonight.” 

“Because you’re the prosecutor,” Aziraphale said, slowly. “So… you’ll help represent me?” 

He didn’t know how that should make him feel. AJ had been his most terrifying law professor, and there had always been a fear Aziraphale had of him because he was Crowley’s father. Also, AJ had been his boss while he had been in law school and Aziraphale clerked for him. But AJ was also one of the best attorneys that Aziraphale had ever seen. He was persuasive, confident, and cool under pressure. Lucifer, Beelzebub, even Crowley all admired him and his methods. Very rarely did Aziraphale ever see him actually lose a case when he had worked for his office. And AJ had always - outside of class - been kind and fair with him. 

He could do a lot worse, for certain. 

“I wish I could,” AJ said, and Aziraphale’s hopes sank. “I’m sorry Aziraphale, you used to work for me. And even if you hadn’t, you and Crowley have been together for six years. You’re getting married, you’re going to be my son soon. It would be unethical and you wouldn’t get the ruling that you need.” 

Of course, of course that would happen. Aziraphale remembered his ethics courses, he knew that would have to be the case. But for a moment, it was nice to think of a fantasy world where his future father-in-law could have helped him pursue justice. 

“This whole system,” Aziraphale said, narrowing his eyes, “Is just ridiculous. Now that we are going to trial, I’m sure that this is going to get to the press. And now the firm really will have horrible publicity and I’ll be raked across the coals.” 

Crowley didn’t say anything, because Aziraphale was correct. Instead, he reached out and squeezed his hand. 

“I’m sorry about this,” AJ said, looking regretful. “I can promise that I’ve put my team on it. And you know how severe I am with my attorneys.” 

Aziraphale remembered. AJ was an impressive attorney, but he was never going to win a ‘Kindest Boss of the Year’ award. 

“I’m assigning Amy to your case,” He said, “You remember Amy, right?” 

That brightened Aziraphale’s hopes. Amy had been two years above him in law school, but they had a few months were they clerked together. She worked hard, cared deeply about helping to improve the world, and had also been able to withstand AJ at his most intense. 

Aziraphale could remember giving him memos and reports with her, and AJ accepting them while simultaneously asking them for the definitions of various words, or how many lakes were in China. It had thrown him, but Amy always knew how to either get to the right answer, or how to ask the right questions so AJ could give them a lecture. If it weren’t for Amy, he wouldn’t have been able to get through that job. It made sense that upon graduation, he hired her, and she took the job. 

If he couldn’t have AJ, at least he had Amy. 

“And we’re still going to look for evidence to make sure he doesn’t get away with it,” Crowley promised. 

Aziraphale smiled at them both. He was struck by how lucky he was to have such wonderful men to help him - both his fiance, and his eventual father-in-law. Surely, as long as he had their support, the trial couldn’t be as awful as his imagination predicted. 

Right? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	4. Is this you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a trial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your feedback and responses! I am so honored. I am also very sorry if this story is causing you any undue stress or anxiety- I promise that the ending is sweet. 
> 
> A warning for this chapter - Sandalphon shames Aziraphale pretty badly for the work he used to do, and there's a bit of victim-blaming he tries (key word, tries) to impart. Thankfully this is a fantasy world and that shit don't fly in my fantasy world. 
> 
> I'm feeling pretty overwhelmed at work right now, so I really want to thank you all for being so encouraging. It really helps be feel appreciated where I otherwise do not feel such. :)

He was wrong. 

It wasn’t as bad as his imagination predicted. 

It was so much worse. 

Sandalphon had went on the attack in a move Aziraphale had seen his firm use before. Because the evidence was indisputable, they were trying to lessen the impact of what the charges were by going after Aziraphale himself. They used their leverage and convinced Carmine, that awful reporter they had worked with years before, to publish a series of articles ‘exposing’ him. Each day was a new monstrous piece of news, pointing out every detail of his sordid past. Photos of him from when he dated Gabriel were used, which made his skin crawl to realize that Gabriel had  _ had  _ photos of him to use. 

The first one had come out the very next day. He had been eating breakfast, before he was off to his first meeting with Amy. Crowley had gone to get the mail, and returned with an ashen face. 

“Angel,” He said, and all Aziraphale had to do was see the paper in his hands to suspect what was happening. 

“Alright,” Aziraphale said, trying to wiggle and ready himself. “Let’s see the smear campaign at work.”

But no amount of nonchalance prepared him for the first article:  _ "From cam boy to scam boy?"  _

While Crowley angrily sputtered several noises that were not english, Aziraphale picked up the paper to read the first few sentences. 

_ “‘Aziraphale Fell, 28, supported himself by living off of wealthier, older men. When that didn't provide him the affluent lifestyle he desired, he began a career of commodizing his body and used that as a means of support for over a year. He collected fees and tips from customers until one day, with no notice, he unceremoniously deleted his content with no option for refunds. Suspiciously, he was seen soon after deleting his channel wearing attire from ‘Four Horseman’, a well-known high end retailer. We include quotes from people who noticed a habit of Aziraphale taking money, purchasing personal gifts, and then moving on to the next target. More on Page Eight.”  _

Aziraphale set the paper down, sure that  _ ‘Page Eight’ _ was going to have no information he wanted to learn. “I wish those tips  _ could _ have paid for a ‘Four Horsemen’ wardrobe,” He remarked, trying to keep his voice light, “It would have been more enjoyable to go there then rely on what became my food budget.” 

He and Amy were going to have to strategize how to counter this media blitz. Already he was receiving texts from Amy about getting the paper to print retractions for all the mis-truths, and collecting evidence from his firm to support him. Aziraphale replied with some ideas of his own, letting her know what else would probably be printed of him. Years ago, when faced with this the first time, his imagination had gone wild with what they would say about him. At least it was coming in handy now.

Crowley was still sputtering, angrily pacing as he had read aloud. He rounded on Aziraphale. “How are you so calm about this?” He said, glaring. 

Aziraphale’s tone went icy, and he set his phone down. “Do not mistake my levity for contentment,” He snapped. “I am experiencing my worst nightmare. Five years ago I told you this exact situation would happen for going against my ex’s firm. And if you think this is the worst of it, then you know  _ nothing _ Anthony Jay Crowley.” 

With that, he stormed to the elevator to work, his appetite forgotten. 

\------

As Aziraphale predicted, the articles only got worse. Later that day, around lunchtime, another article dropped. Aziraphale’s phone began to ping - it was on social media. 

_ “Sex Worker As Your Attorney?" _

It was an article that delved into the “ _ ethics” _ of a former sex worker becomming an attorney. Complete bullshit, but it was keeping the story of Aziraphale’s character in mind. Amy reminded him that they still had the facts on their side. But it didn’t stop his stomach from twisting painfully when he saw the titles come out. In spite of her advice, he read every article, already knowing what it would say. 

Sure enough, the articles seemed to be following his progression from his time with Gabriel, to his independent work, and now to the present. In quick succession, he saw the following articles released ahead of the first date of the trial: 

_ Lawyers Cover Up Former Sex Worker Who Bared All _ . It claimed that the firm had intentionally hid Aziraphale’s former work from their clients, thus lying about the image of their firm to the public. Thankfully, this article didn’t maintain heavy media coverage, and comments on it were generally unsupportive. Most people in the comments seemed to point out that no one ever explained their full employment history, and Aziraphale should not be held to that standard. 

_ ‘Nepotism at work: State Attorney Employs Son’s Boyfriend’. _ This claimed that because Aziraphale dated Crowley, he had been handed his position as a clerk for AJ. Aziraphale had been worried about this one, especially in light of his representation in the trial. Thankfully, it had come out in the middle of a press conference AJ was already giving with a State Senator. A different reporter asked him about the validity, and AJ laughed on instinct, shooting down that rumour right then and there. 

Aziraphale had, he had explained, become one of his clerks because he was one of the best students AJ had ever had. He had scored in the top percentile of his class, and never  _ once _ failed to answer a question or miss a class. He had of  _ course _ hired Aziraphale to clerk for him, and one of the worst work days of his life had been to tender Aziraphale’s resignation when he graduated. It made Aziraphale nearly cry in gratitude, and he had enjoyed the positive media spin for an hour until the next article came out - wanting to bury any positive press for him. 

_ Local Attorney Sleeps His Way To The Top.  _ This one the firm had been ready for, with Amy’s help, because it didn’t take a genius to realize they would be insinuating that Aziraphale had been hired because of his relationship. Fortunately, they had minutes from staff meetings, records, and saved emails that showed them reviewing and discussing Aziraphale’s application. There was even a recorded conversation between Lucifer and AJ, as he had been called as a reference. They were released to the public, and the story cycled out pretty quickly. 

But the last one to come out before the trial was the most challenging to see. 

_ ‘Cam Boy Turned Attorney Allegedly Assaulted’ _

Aziraphale had gone to get the paper that day, looked at the article, and then put it in the recycling bin without a second glance. 

_ Allegedly _ . 

It was only a matter of time before they started to debase the charge itself. Apparently, Sandalphon felt that they had already turned the public against Aziraphale. So this was what was left. 

A pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, which was how Aziraphale realized he had been crying. 

“It’s not true,” Crowley said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “You know it’s not true. And so do I, so does my father. So does Amy, and so does the rest of our firm.” 

“It’s horrible,” Aziraphale whispered, voice breaking, turning in his arms to bury his head in Crowley’s neck. “I’ve been  _ trying _ to brush this off.” 

“I know,” Crowley pressed his lips to the top of his head while Aziraphale shivered. 

Crowley gave a humming noise. “Let’s stay in, alright? We’ll order in, we won’t go anywhere. Just you and me. We can forget about the trial for a little bit.” 

Aziraphale swallowed. He wanted to argue that with the trial tomorrow, it was impossible to simply forget about everything going on. But if anyone could help, it was Crowley. And for just a few hours, it would be nice to forget about everything going on. 

“Get me out of my head,” He begged, and Crowley pressed a kiss to his temple. 

“Gladly.” 

\--------

Crowley made good on his promise. He sat on the throne behind his desk, and let Aziraphale kneel in front of it. They had done this a few times, when the stress of school had gotten the best of him. Crowley would sit on the chair, and Aziraphale would pull his cock out. He would take it into his mouth, and let himself focus on the weight and feel of it. Cockwarming was something that was quick to put him in subspace, and it worked well for him here. 

“You’re taking me in so well,” Crowley whispered, carding his fingers through his hair. “You feel incredible around me.” 

Aziraphale made a keening noise, keeping his hands behind his back where Crowley had asked he keep them. 

“Can you make me come this way?” Crowley asked, and Aziraphale gave a humming noise, letting his head move ever so slightly to take him in deeper. 

He was lost in the sensation of the cock. Slowly, he bobbed his head to suck in earnest. There was a spot in his mouth, that was so sensitive it made him moan as he sucked around Crowley’s cock. 

Crowley groaned, letting his head fall back. There wasn’t a better feeling then Aziraphale’s mouth around his cock. Sure enough, Aziraphale had him spilling down his throat. He swallowed everything that he could, not letting up until Crowley gently pulled him away by the hair. 

He shushed the whine Aziraphale made, and gently encouraged him to stand up. It took so convincing, because Aziraphale wanted to take him back into his mouth and did  _ not  _ want to move. 

“C’mon angel, I have you, it’s alright,” He urged, encouraging Aziraphale to sit on his lap. He undid Aziraphale’s pants and pulled his cock out. making Aziraphale give a whine, and buried his face in Crowley’s neck. He pressed kisses to whatever skin he could reach as Crowley stroked him. Already he was far gone from his earlier cockwarming, and it only took a handful of strokes with Crowley whispering reassurances in his ear to get him to come as well. 

For a moment, they just breathed together, Aziraphale letting himself float while Crowley held onto him. 

Crowley then picked him up, and Aziraphale gave a little giggle at the sudden movement. He carried them to the bath, and made quick work of removing the rest of their clothing and filling the bathtub. Aziraphale dozed on top of him while they both relaxed. 

“Thank you,” He whispered, gently stroking Crowley’s chest. “This was… this was good.” Words were slow to come back to him. “Did.. wait. Dearest, did you happen to tell the others we were staying in?”

“So that’s what I forgot to do,” Crowley said dryly. Before Aziraphale could bolt in a panic, he clamped a hand down on him. “I’m kidding, I called them earlier.” 

Aziraphale let out a yawn. “You - ah - foul fiend.” He let his eyes fluttered closed as Crowley gave a non committal hum. 

\-------

Aziraphale had never before seen Sandalphon in the courtroom before, and if he could never see him again it would be too soon. Sandalphon was every bit the cheesy stereotype that he had seen in  _ How to Get Away With Murder _ . He would pace about the courtroom, make exaggerated pauses, and then say every sentence as if he were giving some witty one-liner. And he wasn’t. 

It annoyed Shadwell to no end, so at least Aziraphale didn’t have to bear the brunt of his ire anymore. But with reporters in the back of the room watching him, having to listen to questions shouted at him as he entered and left the room by those reporters, and dealing with hate emails and tweets, he definitely would have rather dealt with Shadwell’s annoyed grunts in their private mediation. 

And although Sandalphon was annoying in his performance, there was a reason Gabriel had hired him years ago. He was, unfortunately, a good lawyer. 

He got to work right away at throwing out as much of the evidence as he could. The video of the assault, obviously, he couldn’t get rid of, but he did have the Incel manifesto thrown out, along with  _ half _ of the messages he had posted on the message boards. He used the argument that such items were not relevant to their case, that it was circumstantial, that Amy and Aziraphale could not argue they demonstrated  _ intent.  _

“It doesn’t matter,” Lucifer had reassured him during a five minute recess, “The Jury’s already seen it, just because it’s out doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten it.” 

“But it doesn’t help,” Aziraphale reminded him. He was fidgeting, pacing back and forth. He was going to have to take the stand for his own defense. And knowing Sandalphon was going to interrogate him made his skin crawl. 

Hastur gripped his shoulders. “Look at me ‘Zira,” He said, turning Aziraphale around. 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “That’s not my name,” He said, when Hastur refused to say anything else. 

“Alright, listen,” He said, “Don’t let that asshole get in your head okay? We’re all going to be in the back row. If he gets to you, look at us okay?”

Aziraphale swallowed and nodded. 

The court was coming back to session, and Aziraphale walked to the witness stand. He raised his hand to swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.  _ So help me God.  _

Amy stepped forward to ask him questions. Aziraphale gave a recount of what happened that day, just as he had practised in private sessions. He was able to look her in the eye, and not flinch. She walked him through his story, and asked him about the doctor visits, and how he was recovering. 

As he spoke, the last thing he wanted was to look at the Jury. If he did, they would accuse him of pandering. Instead, he looked in the back row, at his new family, as he talked about how they helped save him from something horrible. Finally, his attorney was done questioning him. 

Sandalphon stood, slowly walking towards Aziraphale. 

“Hello, Aziraphale,” He said, giving a smile. Aziraphale gave him a nod, and used great restraint by not shuddering. 

“We are here to talk through your unfortunate encounter with Jack,” Sandalphon said, pacing about. Aziraphale did not answer him. 

“Aziraphale, did you earn a living on the website ‘TheDevilsPlayground’ from two thousand fourteen to two thousand sixteen?” 

Aziraphale swallowed. “Yes,” He said. 

“And how did you earn contributions?” Sandalphon asked. 

“People sent in tips,” Aziraphale said, “And some paid regularly.” 

“Did you ever bother to find out who paid for your content frequently?” Sandalphon pressed, “Who supported your… lifestyle?”

Amy scowled. “Objection - this is speculative,” she said. Shadwell gave her a  _ sustained.  _

“I do have a point,” Sandalphon said. “Because while you were benefitting from the contributions, I would stipulate that you never did care about who supported your lavish lifestyle.” 

“That’s not what I would have called it,” Aziraphale said, but then silently cursed as Amy glared at him. 

“No?” Sandalphon asked. He took out a photo from the top of his desk, and walked to Aziraphale. 

“Tell me what that photo is,” He said. 

Aziraphale swallowed as he held it. “This is me.” He said. 

Sandalphon took the photo. It was an image of Aziraphale wearing the suit he had worn to that first party at AJ’s, the one from  _ Four Horsemen.  _ That Crowley had been so happy to see him in. 

“So you didn’t much care for your followers, but you enjoyed being able to buy gifts with their money.”

“I couldn’t afford this!” Aziraphale stressed, and regretted it the moment he said it. Sandalphon grinned at him. 

“So you don’t even appreciate their hard work?” Sandalphon said, “Or the support?”

“I didn’t say that.” Aziraphale said desperately. This was not going well. 

“It’s no wonder my poor client was under such duress when he met you,” he said, and Aziraphale wanted to scream. Throughout all of this, Jack was sitting, calm as could be, as everything unfolded. He didn’t curse, yell, or object to anything. He looked perfectly contrite and it stressed Aziraphale out to no end to have to be so close to him. 

He went on to propose another piece of evidence, and had called for help to bring it in. 

A projector screen was brought out, and Aziraphale recognized two of the people handling it. They had gone to school with him. One of them was his old friend, and rival on assignments, Uriel. She and Aziraphale had  _ always  _ competed for the number one spot in their classes - if she lost to him one day, he lost to her the next. They had fought and competed every step of the way, but she had been a dear friend and companion because she, more than anyone, even Crowley, understood what it was like to be in their program. It hadn’t stopped her from being nasty to him, but he could be just as cutting. He had warned her against taking a job with Archangel & Heaven, just before their graduation. 

(It had led to their final fight before graduation. He had accused her of selling out to a paycheck. She had snarled “Don’t think your boyfriend in the dark glasses is going to have a job for you.” 

And they hadn’t made up yet.)

But here she gave him a wince, as if she were feeling guilty. Uriel never felt guilty. It made him apprehensive for what Sandalphon was going to try pulling. He pressed a few buttons, and a screenshot from a very familiar website came up. 

TheDevilsPlayground.

Aziraphale went cold. 

How did he have a screenshot from the website, with a cutout for a  _ actual  _ video to be played? That was something only a paid subscriber could get. 

“Does that look familiar?” 

Aziraphale couldn’t speak. 

“Maybe you don’t recognize it from this angle, you would have been uploading,” Sandalphon said, and it was sick how gleeful he sounded. He hit the ‘play’ button on his remote. 

There was no sound, and there was pixelation to cover what was happening, but it was obvious just what Aziraphale-on-the-video was doing. Several people made disgusted noises, and Aziraphale flushed horribly in shame. He could not believe that he was seeing this. This was untenable. He couldn’t handle this. The  _ firm  _ was here. Crowley was here. His family was here. How could he face them again?

“Is that you?”

Aziraphale kept his eyes glued to the floor. 

He could  _ not  _ look at the back row. 

He could  _ not  _ look at the screen. 

“Aziraphale,” and the  _ joy  _ in Sandalphon’s voice was  _ palpable,  _ “You need to identify the man on the screen.” 

There was angry murmuring in the court, and disgruntled complaining from people in the courtroom. Aziraphale paid attention to none of it. His breath was caught up in his throat. Noise seemed to drown out around him. 

The sound of a gavel banging brought him back to the present. Aziraphale looked up to see Shadwell calling for order in the courtroom. 

“Stop that this instant,” He ordered to Sandalphon, who paused the video. 

“Aziraphale,” never had the Judge’s voice been so gentle to him. “Answer the question.” 

Aziraphale looked at him, and something in his face wiped the look off of Sandalphon’s face. “Yes,” He said, “That’s me.” 

Unknown to them, from the back row, Newt was peering at the side of the screen. Not of Aziraphale, in the video. He was a good looking guy, but Newt’s preferences lay with people who were taller, had darker hair, and were named Anathema. Unfortunately, Anathema did not notice where his eyes were, and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“What are you doing?” She hissed, as people around them tutted with disapproval. She noticed members of the jury shaking their heads, but to her relief they were angry at  _ Sandalphon _ , not disappointed with Aziraphale. As horrid as this was, Aziraphale was coming off as sympathetic. Especially considering his reaction, and it hurt Anathema to see his reaction. But as messed up as this was, Sandalphon was doing his client more harm then good. 

So it made her annoyed to see Newt study the screen, until she saw him begin to write a note in his planner. He ripped out a page, and then took advantage of the noise in the room to move closer to where Aziraphale’s attorney was seated. She watched as he passed a note Amy, and he reclaimed his seat as Shadwell called the room to order. 

“What was that?” She whispered, but he shook his head. They watched as the attorney unfolded the note as Shadwell asked Aziraphale to answer the question, and somehow he did without breaking down. 

“So you see,” Sandalphon said, “You admit you let people watch you, for a fee, yes?” Aziraphale responded with a  _ yes.  _

“So years later, by offering services as a potential,  _ attorney,” _ And here his voice  _ lilted,  _ as though it were something  _ adorable _ , “Do you think it’s possible that he may have been confused? That he may have been afraid you would suddenly take such services away? And that he flew into a psychotic rage? And that in attacking you, this was not the action of a sane man, but rather, someone in need of desperate mental services?” 

He paused, looking at Aziraphale expectantly. “Well?” He asked. 

Crowley was digging his fingernails into his palms, wishing that he could tell this asshole off. 

“Well?” Aziraphale repeated, looking so convincingly confused that it made Crowley proud. His fiance could be a real bastard, and Crowley loved him very much. 

“I’m not sure if you had a question there,” Aziraphale said. He was hurt, and he was humiliated. And at this point, he wasn’t thinking about how to be poised and put together. So he replied, “It seemed more that you were using my time up here to try and make a point to tell me that I was attacked for refusing to have sex with a man I just met, and that somehow it was my fault.” 

There were several echoes of laughter, and Shadwell called for order once again. 

“I’m asking if you would agree that you provoked him by creating an instability, through your prior reputation,” Sandalphon rephrased. 

“I don’t think,” Aziraphale challenged, “There is any precedent that would give you a leaning claiming that I caused emotional distress for a man that I never met because I denied him sex for a job I used to do half a decade ago.”

“But who holds onto a fantasy from half a decade ago? Mr. Fell, a man as intelligent as yourself knows that this is not something a normal, rational, sane man would do?” 

“Objection,” This came from Amy, who was stood up. From the back, Anathema watched her pocket Newt’s note. 

“Yes?” Shadwell asked. 

“I would like to call attention to the logic of Sandalphon’s argument, and ask that the court look again at the screen,” She said, walking towards the distasteful projection. 

“Sandalphon,” The attorney asked, “How did you come by this video?” 

“Am I on trial now?” Sandalphon asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“You aren’t,” She replied, “But I  _ would _ like to ask you to read the names on the side of the screen, please.”

To Aziraphale’s surprise, Sandalpon started to pale. 

“Can’t see?” She moved over, and began to read for him. “JohnDoe69, LGH339, A113, these are all different usernames of people who are watching. We’ve established that the screen name your client uses is SwordOfRod42, but I don’t see that name here. But I do see TheSandMan77, which I would like you to identify.”

Aziraphale’s jaw dropped, and he let out a gasp. People began to whisper and murmur, spurred by his reaction. 

Sandalphon said nothing, and Aziraphale’s attorney continued, but this time to Shadwell. “I’d like to put Sandalphon on the stand.”

“That is uncalled for!” Sandalphon raged, but Shadwell narrowed his eyes. 

“I’ll allow it,” He said, and formally dismissed Aziraphale from the stand. Relieved, Aziraphale stood and walked down, taking his earlier seat. 

Disgruntled, Sandalphon stood, angrily giving a half-hearted swear and sat down. 

“So, Sandalphon,” Amy asked, “Who is TheSandMan77?” 

“Who knows anyone’s identity on the internet?” Sandalphon returned, and Crowley’s jaw dropped. That wasn’t a  _ no _ . 

He looked at Newt, as did the rest of the firm, who kept his focus on Sandalphon. 

“I would like a specific answer. Do you know who TheSandMan77 is?”

Sandalphon shifted. Shadwell was glaring. “Answer the question,” He ordered, “Or I’ll have you in contempt.”

“It’s me. Alright?” He scowled. 

There were gasps throughout the room. Aziraphale clasped his hands to his mouth, eyes wide.

“That’s you,” She repeated, pacing in front of him. “And you established this video was released, you said six years ago? You don’t have to answer, it’s rhetorical.

“But it begs the question, if Jack  _ isn’t _ on the thread of people watching, and you  _ were _ , that meant  _ you _ submitted this evidence. How does this relate to proving he was obsessed with my client?” 

“It…” Sandalphon began to say, but he trailed off. 

“I don’t think it does,” She said, answering for him. “I think that you wanted to smear my client, and that you’ve been trying to smear him ever since you took this case.” 

“Objection!” Sandalphon snapped, and Shadwell sustained. 

“That’s fair,” Amy acquiesced. “But I want to ask. If you held on to this video for so many years, by your logic,  _ you  _ would be obsessed with Aziraphale and not of sound mind yourself.” 

She waited, letting the pause sink in. 

“But the fact that you’ve been here, arguing and defending, to me, seems you’re of sound mind.” 

“Is there a question?” Sandalphon sneered. 

“No, just a literal observation,” she said. “I’m done here.” 

Shadwell released Sandalphon from the witness stand, and he gave Aziraphale a piercing glare. But even Aziraphale saw how the Jury glared at him. And for the first time that day, he let himself feel just a little bit of hope. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed it - I promise the next chapter is nowhere near as stressful or sad as the last ones.


	5. What lies ahead?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ruling. The aftermath. One last article

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow oh wow I'm really glad I could post the last chapter before I go on finals lockdown. There likely won't be more form me for a few weeks while I go into finals mode, but please let me know what ideas you have if any.

Sandalphon stepped down from the witness stand, grumpily returning to sit with his client, who looked furious. While they whispered to each other, Aziraphale’s attorney asked to move to an immediate vote and verdict. The Judge allowed it, and all that was left was to wait for an answer. Crowley itched to go check on Aziraphale, and he wasn’t the only one. Lucifer was texting his wife, sending her updates to keep her informed. In a worst case scenario measure, Hastur was googling ways to take a wrongful conviction further, and he could hear Ligur whispering which sites were correct and which were not. 

One hour later, the Jury filed back into the room. Shadwell asked if they reached a verdict. A woman in the front row stood. 

“We the Jury find the defendant… guilty. Of all charges.” 

Several loud relieved noises came from the room - which was interesting because they didn’t come from the firm. Crowley watched Aziraphale  _ physically  _ relax in front of him, and slump back in relief. 

The sentence was the original one he had been pushing for, only with a longer period for the possibility of parole. Part of him was angry they had to go through this whole ordeal just to wind back to where they started. But a larger part of him was just grateful that the system held up in the way it was supposed to. 

Shadwell officially declared the case closed, and the sound of the gavel was better than any song Crowley heard. Aziraphale pulled Amy into a hug, and Crowley raced to the front of the room to pull Aziraphale into a kiss the moment they separated. 

“It’s over,” Aziraphale whispered to him. “It’s finally over.”

“You were incredible,” Crowley said, holding him tightly. “Just incredible.” 

“How did you know about the username?” He asked, and Crowley shook his head. He gestured to the back of the room, where Newt was surrounded by their firm. Aziraphale smiled and walked back, Crowley and Amy at his heels. 

“Newt,” Aziraphale said, pulling him into a hug, “How did you know?”

“He used to copy that email,” Newt said, giving him a grin, “Whenever I scheduled meetings with him.” 

“You’re brilliant,” Aziraphale pulled him into another hug, and when he stepped away, Anathema rushed over to give him a deep kiss. 

Aziraphale joined the rest of the firm in laughing as Newt’s face turned bright red, and Anathema pulled away only to take a breath and kiss him again. They broke apart, and the firm began to give Aziraphale looks. Aziraphale shifted, nervously taking in the rest of the firm as they all looked at him. 

“I’m sorry,” He said timidly, “That you had to see that video, earlier, and I really do feel terribly-” 

He was interrupted as Hastur pulled him into a hug. “Don’t apologize to us,” He said, “That’s not what family does. I’m only sorry it meant that those assholes had seen it. You deserved better viewers.” 

“It’s alright,” Lucifer said, watching Aziraphale stiffen and slowly relax in Hastur’s arms. “We’ve all had shitty past jobs. Remember what I told you?” 

From where his head was buried in Hastur’s shoulder, Lucifer saw Aziraphale give a nod. 

“This won’t take you down,” Beelzebub said firmly. Aziraphale tried to breakaway from the hold, but Hastur did not let go. 

“It’s not like they played the clips Lucifer used to record for social media promotion,” Ligur said, and he grinned as Aziraphale tried to bite back a smile. 

“Yeah,” Hastur said, “ _ Those  _ are embarrassing. Just ask Lilith.” 

“It’s true, I’m glad she married me,” Lucifer said, but he said that most days about his wife. 

“Thank you for… for not thinking less of me,” Aziraphale said, and finally succeeded in pulling out of the hug. 

“We’re never going to think less of you for having a different kind of job,” Dagon said, “So get with it.” 

“Although you came off sympathetic to the reporters,” Beelzebub half-warned, “So we may get another influx of media attention and cases, and I expect your help with that when you’re ready to come back to work.” 

“You better not come back for a while,” Ligur said, glaring. “The doctor told you a month.” 

“If you even  _ think _ of making this like a glasses situation I will ground you, and I can because I drive you,” Hastur snapped, when Aziraphale made to argue. That made him hold back what he wanted to say. Instead, he noticed the now-empty courtroom, and the glare he was getting from Shadwell. 

“Alright, we better go before the judge has us thrown out,” Aziraphale said. 

“Drinks at Crowley’s!” Lucifer said, and left before he could respond. Everyone else agreed, ignoring Crowley’s protests as they all filed out. 

\--------

Everyone went back to Crowley and Aziraphale’s apartment. The entire firm, AJ, Amy, and Lilith all spent the next few hours celebrating Aziraphale’s win. Lilith had already been at their apartment by the time they arrived. The moment the case adjourned, Lucifer texted her the results and she promptly drove to their apartment to start preparing hors d'oeuvres and poured wine for everyone.

While she prepared food, and their friends got ready to come over, their old friend Brian came to interview Aziraphale before the party. It was lovely to see him, and he was so glad that Aziraphale had a favorable ruling. Especially after he had helped the reporter all those years ago with his own suit. He sat with Brian for a few hours as their friends arrived, answering questions about his side of the story and his own experiences.

As the party commenced, Aziraphale accepted a glass of wine from Lilith with a smile, but Crowley leaned over as she left to hand one to Anathema. 

“Don’t drink any more, alright? I have a  _ plan _ for later,” He half-asked, half-growled. Aziraphale gave a pleasant shudder. Crowley always had such  _ wonderful _ plans. 

So he followed his lover’s wishes, and didn’t take another glass. To his surprise, Crowley did take another glass, and a few more after that, but Aziraphale trusted his lover’s instincts. Instead, he let himself chat with Amy, Newt, and Anathema about how Newt had been able to figure out the screen name debacle. This caught Lucifer and Lilith’s attention. 

“We should tell them!” Lucifer grinned, “Email those stupid attorneys and attach that screenshot. Let them see how they imploded another case.”

“I can cc his personal e-mail,” Newt joked, and Lucifer gave a laugh so evil it made Aziraphale and Amy gape at him. 

Lilith rolled her eyes. “You’re doing your devil laugh,” she chided. He grinned. 

“We’ll do it on Monday,” Lucifer decided, and went to grab another glass. 

They all looked at Newt, who shook his head. “We are not going to do it on Monday, he’ll forget by then.” 

Aziraphale snickered, and enjoyed the rest of the night by getting to hang out with his dearest friends; stress-free in a way he hadn’t felt for a while. Finally, the night began to draw to a close, and his friends slowly began to file out of the room. He made plans to catch up with Amy later, and promised Hastur and Ligur he wouldn’t go back to work until a doctor gave him an official all-clear (though he knew one of them would be at his follow up appointment somehow). 

With everyone now gone, all that was left was to put away the glasses - Lilith had wrangled Lucifer and Beelzebub to help put away the food. Most of the glasses went into the dishwasher, but Aziraphale felt restless. So he left a few to wash by hand, enjoying the physicality of the chore. As he did this, he felt a pair of arms circle around his waist from behind, and lips press against his neck. He made a pleased humming noise, leaning back into Crowley’s embrace. 

Crowley rested his chin over Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Are you going to wash everything by hand angel?” He asked, and Aziraphale could  _ feel _ the smile in his voice. 

Aziraphale gave a smile. “I feel… I feel a lot of nervous energy,” he admitted ruefully, “I don’t think I can sit long enough to do anything.” 

There was an  _ mmm _ noise he got in response. “I could  _ probably _ help with that,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale could feel the smirk he got. “Remember how I used to relax you?” 

Aziraphale snorted. “You tied me to the bed, how could I forget?”

“I thought, in light of this last few weeks,” Crowley mused out loud, “I could make a couple things up to you.” 

“Hm,” Aziraphale said, turning off the water, and turning in his arms. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Crowley drawled, “Besides that session the other day, I’ve been neglecting you.” 

There was an element of truth to that. Due to the stress of the last few weeks, they didn’t get a lot of moments to be intimate. Ever since the stay at the hospital, they hadn’t gone much further than cuddling before that session on the throne in his office. 

“You’ve hardly neglected me,” Aziraphale said gently, “Neglect would have been what I had in that relationship before you.” 

“What are you talking about?” Crowley asked. 

“Well,” Aziraphale said, leaning in for a kiss, “When I used to have sex with Gabriel, I would usually give him a blow job, or ride him, and after he came he would fall asleep. Sometimes I would masturbate in the shower, or just fall asleep. But with you, you’ve always been so active! It’s lovely.” 

He leaned in to get another kiss, but Crowley pulled away. Aziraphale pouted at him. 

“Wait,” He said, his eyes going wide, “So that meant - you - what-”

“Yes, yes, it’s something you can know you’re better then him at,” Aziraphale waved away, but took a moment as Crowley’s face began to go sharp and predatory. He grinned and it gave the younger man  _ pause.  _

“Well,” He grinned, “I’m glad this went into my plan. You didn’t drink, did you?”

“Just the one glass,” Aziraphale said, confused, “Why?”

“Because I think,” Crowley gave him a sharp nip, and then pressed a bite to a spot on his neck that always succeeded in turning his knees to jelly, “That I’m going to make up on so many lost orgasms tonight.” 

“Oh!” Aziraphale gasped, feeling himself melt to a putty in Crowley’s arms as he nibbled along his ear, “ _ Oh _ ! Oh my  _ lord- _ ”

“I like the sound of that,” Crowley chuckled darkly, lifting Aziraphale into his arms and carrying him off. 

They kissed and kissed, making out as Crowley filled their tub as full as he could get it. Aziraphale giggled as he kept growling, as they had to separate in order to get their clothing off properly. Crowley stepped into the tub, and then helped him in. 

“I don’t know - _ oh _ -” and it should be  _ illegal _ , the way Crowley was able to make him melt. His hands found purchase on Aziraphale’s chest, gently feeling the soft skin and tracing along his shoulder, before thumbing at his nipples. Aziraphale moaned, leaning back into his hands as they teased at him relentlessly. He squirmed, whimpering under the onslaught. Crowley made a questioning noise from where his mouth was sucking a mark into the neck below him. 

“Oh -  _ oh _ \- I don’t know what -  _ ah _ \- the point is in -  _ yes _ \-  _ right there _ \- in taking a bath if we’re only -  _ oh dearest _ \- getting dirty right after,” Aziraphale asked, in between encouragements. Crowley growled in his ear, making him shudder. 

“I’m not doing a good job,” He said, “If you’re still speaking in complete sentences.” 

With that, before Aziraphale could reply, he wrapped a hand around his cock, and Aziraphale made a keening noise, trying not to thrust into his hand. 

“That’s it,” Crowley encouraged, letting his hand settle into a steady pace, “That’s much better, just relax for me angel.” 

Aziraphale let out breathy moans and pleas, and they all fell upon deaf ears. Crowley refused to alter his pace until he shuddered his released into his hand. For a moment, Crowley let him catch his breath in his arms. Then, he moved his hand and Aziraphale saw him coat his fingers in their lubricant. His eyes went wide. 

“Surely you didn’t mean-” He began, but Crowley gave a dark chuckle. 

“What did I tell you about not taking me at my word?” He asked, turning Aziraphale around in his arms. “I said all night, and I  _ meant  _ all night.” 

It was the most beautiful of promises - the most terrifying of threats. Crowley was methodical in preparing him, and really took his time in focusing on stretching him with each finger. Whimpers escaped his throat at each thrust, and he gasped as they circled to directly press on his prostate. When he added the third finger, Crowley began to fuck him on his fingers alone, and didn’t stop even after Aziraphale shuddered and came around him. He pulled his fingers out, and helped Aziraphale sink onto his cock. Although he was on top, it was still Crowley’s hands on his hips, and Crowley controlling the pacing. 

And it was a relentless pace. “I didn’t want you to drink too much tonight,” He said, pressing a kiss to his collarbone while Aziraphale moaned, “Because I knew I wanted you to feel like this. Of course, I didn’t know about everything else. But I’m glad you said something. Because  _ this _ ,” and he paused, making sure his thrusts weren’t merely brushing passed his prostate, but rather hitting it exactly, and he knew he had the angle right as Aziraphale’s gasps went higher in pitch, “This is what you always deserved, and I want to make sure you get what you deserve.” 

The added benefit of him drinking more, was that it increased his own stamina. Aziraphale was blessed with a much shorter refractory period - which of course he was going to put to the test - but Crowley wasn’t in his twenties anymore. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have his own kind of fun, and in this scenario it meant making sure Aziraphale could fall apart in his arms. 

Hard once more, Aziraphale buried his head in Crowley’s neck, now letting his lover truly control the speed of their thrusts he felt himself draw close once more. 

“I can’t-” He stammered, and Crowley gave a dark chuckle. 

“What, you’ve done three before,” He reminded him, and Aziraphale whimpered. Crowley wrapped a hand around his length, and Aziraphale shuddered, coming undone for a third time that night. 

Crowley still hadn’t come yet, but he didn’t plan on that just yet. Instead, he stopped, giving Aziraphale a chance to catch his breath. He leaned over to drain the bathtub, carefully lifting Aziraphale to stand. 

Unsteadily, Aziraphale hobbled out of the tub and leaned against it, his legs not quite willing to work. He glared as Crowley snickered at him. “This is your fault,” He said, but his tone was too relaxed to really come across as stern. 

“Oh, _ terribly sorry,” _ Crowley grinned, “I didn’t realize I was causing an  _ inconvenience _ angel,” 

Before he could think of a witty retort, Aziraphale found himself once again in Crowley’s arms, as he was carried off to their bed. “S-still not done?” He stammered, half-nervous, and half-delighted. 

They settled onto the bed, and he let out a moan as Crowley sank into him once more. “Just getting started darling.” 

It was a long, lovely night. Crowley fucked him through two more orgasms before he finally came himself. Aziraphale was gasping, trying to keep his mind in one piece even as he felt himself float to that delightful subspace mentality. His arms tried to hold Crowley close, desperate to feel his love against himself. 

“Just one more,” Crowley encouraged, and Aziraphale gave a whine. He wasn’t sure if it was because Crowley had broken him, or because he didn’t want to let go. Also, he wasn’t sure if he said that out loud or not. Judging by the chuckle, he said it out loud. Crowley kissed his way down his body, settling between his legs to pull his cock into his mouth and suck on it gently. If Aziraphale weren’t currently a puddle, he would have reflected on how it was such an interesting reversal of their last scene. Instead, all he could manage was a desperate collection of whimpers, until he could feel himself shudder in an orgasm, but nothing physically came out. He hadn’t realized that was  _ possible _ . 

Crowley kissed his way back up his body, pulling Aziraphale to lean on top of his chest in his favorite resting position. “I’m so glad I have you,” He said, “I love you.” 

Aziraphale tried to burrow as deep into his lover as he could. He shook lightly, overwhelmed by the night they had, and the last couple of weeks. 

“I love you too,” He whispered, and Crowley thumbed at his face. Aziraphale blinked, realizing tears were falling. 

He smiled at his fiance. “I am so glad that I have you. My darling.” 

And after an exhausting couple of weeks, safe in each other’s arms, Aziraphale and Crowley slept together, at peace. 

\---------

Epilogue:

Crowley stretched out, relishing in the soreness in his arms and back. The time on his clock read that it was one in the afternoon. He let out a pleasant  _ hum,  _ and looked over to see Aziraphale still asleep. As Crowley shifted to get out of bed, he noticed, to his delight, Aziraphale not even  _ stir _ . 

He turned on their coffee maker, and was inspired to try and make some eggs and bacon. Certainly, it couldn’t be impossible after all the times he watched Aziraphale make it? Better turn to the internet to be safe. 

A few failed attempts later, Crowley finally put together a decent enough array of bacon, eggs, and toast with butter. He went to get the paper, and beamed at the front page. 

_ Avenging Angel Rises _

_ By: Brian Hogback _

_ Sitting down with the angel attorney that saved my career.  _

_ About time,  _ He thought, nevermind that Brian had only sat down with him the night before. He put the paper on a tray, with the rest of the food and silverware. He finished plating with two cups of coffee - one black, for him, and one with a  _ generous _ amount of cream and sugar. Aziraphale may have started drinking coffee, but he still had  _ standards.  _ He carried the tray into the bedroom, and set it down. 

"Angel?" He said, gently kissing Aziraphale's temple. "You should wake up." 

Aziraphale whined in protest, and Crowley bit back a chuckle. "Can't," Aziraphale protested, "you broke me." 

"I'm pretty sure that I did no such thing," Crowley replied, grinning. "I have breakfast." 

The promise of food had Aziraphale opening his eyes. "You cooked this?" He said, surprise and disbelief echoed in his voice. 

Crowley rolled his eyes. " _ Yes _ , angel, I did. Is it that hard to believe I could put a breakfast together? Don't answer that." He said, as Aziraphale opened his mouth. 

He then held up the paper. "Look what came in - he must have finished it last night at the party." 

Aziraphale gaped in surprise. "How fast!" He said, shifting to sit up. He winced and then glared at Crowley, who couldn't hide his smirk in time. 

"I'm not apologizing for a good night," he snickered, and Aziraphale gave him a blush. Nevertheless, he did reposition some pillows for Aziraphale to lean back against. He offered to read the article while Aziraphale ate. Crowley cleared his throat dramatically, and began to read the article before him: 

“Six years ago, I was accused of libel when I exposed Dr. Sable’s dietician plan that preyed on our communities. When I had nowhere else to go, Anthony Crowley stepped in to defend me. A head attorney at  _ Crowley, Morningstar, & Fly,  _ I knew that I could trust him to represent me against one of the most feared prosecuting attorneys in the city. He won my case, and since I’ve made a career of investigative journalism.”

Aziraphale beamed at him. “Brian really has. I’m so glad for him.”

“Shush,” Crowley replied, “Let me keep reading.” Aziraphale mimed  _ zipping his lips,  _ and Crowley continued. 

“This, long-standing readers of the  _ Times _ know. 

But what you don’t know, and what I learned very recently, is who really helped save my reputation and protect me. 

Aziraphale Fell.”

Aziraphale blushed. “That is  _ not  _ how it played out!” 

“That is absolutely how it happened. Let me keep reading.” 

“In 2015, Aziraphale wasn’t an attorney. In fact, he was living at a poverty rate in one of the roughest neighborhoods of Tadfield. One week before my first court appearance, he had been the victim of a mugging within a street from his home. But that didn’t stop him from giving advice to his then-boyfriend, now-fiance, which became the saving grace for my career.”

“It was a few precedents it hardly-”

Crowley gave him a glare, one that promised a  _ punishment  _ if Aziraphale didn’t let him continue. He swallowed, loudly, and took a bite of toast with an embarrassed smile. With a pointed cough to clear his throat, Crowley continued. 

“I sat down with Aziraphale recently, in light of his own recent trial, to understand just how a young man can go from homeless, to a student in one of our cities most competitive programs, to a recognizable name in merely seven years.

“At six in the evening I was invited to Aziraphale and Anthony’s apartment for dinner, a chance to sit down and learn Aziraphale’s full story, from his eyes, and celebrate a recent win for him and his chosen family. I arrived to a penthouse, one that Anthony (who prefers to go buy “Crowley”) had been living in for years. He greeted me as the elevator doors opened, and offered water - as he knows I don’t drink on an interview. 

“ _ Our friend, Lilith, is cooking one of Aziraphale’s recipes _ ,” He told me, smiling, _ “You’re in for a treat.”  _

He was right - if Aziraphale hadn’t gone into law, there was absolutely a career in cooking he could have pursued.” 

Crowley took a pause, to drink his coffee. “That’s true,” he said, taking a moment. Aziraphale gave him a little smile, blushing at the compliment. He resumed reading: 

“Despite having been in the newspapers and going to trial recently, Aziraphale was in good spirits. He seemed lighter, more relaxed. Crowley had to strongly encourage him to sit with me, saying that he would help set up for the party about to begin. For working at the same firm, their conversation was relaxed, and their interactions perfectly domestic.”

Aziraphale laughed at the  _ face  _ Crowley made. “I’ve never been  _ domestic  _ in all my life.” In a moment of tact, Aziraphale decided not to point out that they were currently sleeping in, eating breakfast in bed. Instead, he gestured for him to continue. 

“Finally, I sat with Aziraphale, ready to talk through my questions. But he had a direction in mind. 

“ _ I’m sure that you’ve heard much about me through other articles, _ ” Aziraphale said, giving me a wry sort of smile. Crowley had handed him a glass of wine, and he sipped it. 

“ _ I just want to know your story, _ ” I answered. 

“Aziraphale walked me through his time in school, how he intended to save money upon graduation and attend community college. His partner at the time, an attorney, hadn’t wanted him to move away, and promised they would talk about colleges later. This partner proposed they move in together, and that Aziraphale wouldn’t have to worry about expenses.”

Crowley stopped reading. “Is it alright to continue?” He asked, and Aziraphale nodded. 

“It’s fine dearest,” He said, “I’m just glad Brian didn’t press me for his name.” 

“He’s a professional,” Crowley agreed, and continued reading. 

“ _ That didn’t strike you as odd, or controlling? _ ” I asked, and Aziraphale shook his head. 

_ “My parents passed away around this time,” _ Aziraphale answered,  _ “And this was my first serious relationship. So I was just happy to have someone I thought I could trust.”  _

_ “But that didn’t happen,” _ I guessed, and he nodded. _ “It didn’t happen.” _

Crowley didn’t stop reading, but he did reach out to hold Aziraphale’s hand. For his part, Aziraphale put down his fork and swallowed, holding Crowley’s hand. Especially considering this next part. Although this was so many years ago, it didn’t lessen how painful it was to remember. He continued reading.

“He then spoke of arguments, and leaving one night to find that he was refused entry back into the building. Of having nowhere to go, and no way to earn a living without a higher education. This was how he fell into cam work. 

_ “I was staying in shelters until I found a place that would rent month to month, at a low rate,”  _ Aziraphale explained,  _ “and my neighbor showed me the website, where I could make money from my apartment safely, without needing a degree.”  _

_ “So cam work was a safety option?” _ I clarified, and he nodded. _ “It was meant to be a safe way to earn a living. It let me afford rent, and a strict food budget.” _

_ “Earlier articles stated you received enough money to afford high end clothing,”  _ I said, and he laughed. 

_ “That never happened,”  _ Aziraphale said, grinning.  _ “I couldn’t afford that until I met Crowley, because most of that clothing had been a gift from him.”  _

There was another moment where Crowley stopped to drink again. “We should go back,” He said, and Aziraphale nodded. “We can get something nice for Amy there, as a thank you.” Crowley started to read again. 

“With that, he explained how he had met Crowley, and the rest of the firm. Readers will remember my lawsuit against Dr. Sable, and this was the time where he found the precedent that declared my innocence against his charges. This helped solidify a dream to pursue law. 

_ “So you enrolled in the Tadfield University BA/JD program,” _ I said, and he nodded. This program boasts a four percent acceptance rate, but it is an accomplishment Aziraphale shrugs off. But what he doesn’t say is that his GPA from high school had been a 4.3, the LSAT was a 179, and he letters of recommendation from the law office he helped out at. This Aziraphale did not tell me, but Crowley was sure to call out these details from the kitchen. The praise makes Aziraphale flush.”

Crowley snickered as Aziraphale blushed to hear it again. “I still mean it,” He said, and kept reading. 

_ “And then you clerked for the District Attorney,”  _ I said, and Aziraphale gives a shudder. 

_ “AJ is the most intense Law Professor you will ever have,”  _ He said,  _ “But he never kicked me out of class - I refused to let him. Not when I saw him at Sunday Night dinners every week. So I studied hard, and he recognized it by hiring me to clerk for him.”  _

“This concurs with AJ’s testimony a week earlier,  When Carmine accused him of Nepotism and he laughed .”

Aziraphale gave another shudder, and Crowley didn’t even laugh. His father was terrifying. 

““ _ When you graduated, you went on to work with at your then-boyfriend’s firm _ ,” I said, and he nodded. _ “I wanted to help people, like they have,”  _ Aziraphale said.  _ “And I still do.”  _

_ “So that means you will be going back to work, after everything _ ?” I asked. I am referring to the moment when  Aziraphale was attacked by a potential client, and he nodded.”

_ “More than ever, I realize how important this work is,”  _ Aziraphale said.  _ “I was very lucky to have Ms. Cake, my good friend Amy, represent my case, and help me seek justice against my attacker. And against the smear campaign that printed mistruths about my life and case, in an attempt to perpetuate the victim-blaming cycle in our society. It needs to end one stigma at a time. That is why I want to focus my efforts on helping people who find themselves in situations like mine, to make sure they secure the justice owed to them.” _

_ “That’s a bold statement,” _ I said, remembering  The lies that were printed about Aziraphale before he took the stand ,  _ “How will you be able to defend these people? Most in the situations you are describing cannot afford it.”  _

_ “‘Crowley, Morningstar, & Fly’ want to recognize the importance of this work,”  _ Aziraphale said,  _ “And want to encourage me to dedicate most of my time on this effort. We will take work on a case-by-case basis, but we have done pro-bono work before.”  _

"This is true, the firm has a successful track record of taking on pro bono cases and balancing them out with wealthier retainers. With a bold new policy, time will tell how successful Aziraphale Fell will be at this new initiative. But given his already impressive work ethic, I believe we are witnessing the beginnings of an incredible legal career. Where it will go, I cannot say. I count myself lucky that I can owe my career to his hard work, and I know I will not be the only one saying so."

"Bright things lay in store for Aziraphale."

_ "Brian has been an investigative reporter for the Tadfield Times for seven years. You can follow him on Twitter @BrianTadfield or email him at  _ [ _ Brian@TadfieldTimes.org _ ](mailto:Brian@TadfieldTimes.org) _." _

Crowley set the paper down, and he grinned at his fiance. “You’re a ‘bright young thing’ angel,” he said, and although his tone was light, he was not joking. Aziraphale blushed again. 

“Brian is just being pleasant,” he demurred. Crowley leaned down to kiss him. 

“Nah, just being observant,” he replied, and gave him another kiss. Aziraphale smiled at him. 

“Darling, I don’t know if I have it in me to go again after last night,” He protested, but didn’t stop kissing him. “I think you broke me.”

Crowley snorted. “Won’t go further,” He agreed, “But I didn’t  _ break  _ you. Nothing can.” 

Aziraphale gave him a loving smile. Maybe there was a slight element of truth to what his fiance was saying. Gabriel didn’t break him when he kicked him out of his apartment. The city couldn’t break him when he struggled to find his own footing. His own former job couldn’t break him when Jack attacked him, and Sandalphon couldn’t bring him down either. He was on the other end now. Aziraphale gave Crowley another kiss, glad to be enjoying this moment with his lover. 

Bright things lay in store, indeed. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all who read, liked, and commented. I hope you enjoyed this.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear this has a happy ending please don't murder me.
> 
> As always, I'm Shay Moonsilk on Tumblr and on Discord if you would like to message me directly!


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